This Land is Ours
by theolawynne
Summary: !STORY ABANDONED! The Diviners are torn apart. The King of Crows is on the horizon. Everything feels as if it could crumble to dust, as if it is missing it's most important part. And, in a way, it is. Because the Diviners have been missing their heart-the one piece of the puzzle that could stop all of this madness. (Starts after Diviners and goes past BtDBY)


**Chapter One: A Greenwich Guy**

Henry stood toward the middle of the speakeasy, his straw boater's hat slight askew atop his curls. He was on his second glass of gin, enjoying the non-judgmental crowd that existed in Greenwich Village. Even so, he could feel the loneliness creeping into his bones. Theta was off having another date night with Memphis, and Henry was happy for her. However, being happy for her wasn't the same as being happy. He welcomed the warmth that another swig of gin brought, and his eyes glanced over this evening's crowd. There were a few attractive men that he had spied earlier, but most had paired off with other people in the crowd. Henry's body jerked forward, his appreciate gaze broken by a shove from someone behind him. He let out an expletive as he looked at the shattered pieces of his teacup and the splatter of gin across his trousers.

"Oh geez, I'm so sorry," said the voice from behind Henry. Normally Henry would handle this with peace and poise, but the hooch was getting to his head and made him hot with anger. He turned around, ready to bless out the rude stranger, but he stopped short. The stranger was handsome as ever, standing in a well-fitted navy blue suit, his skin the color of warm honey. His hair was slightly longer than the standard man's cut, but the asymmetry and the dark curls framed his face well. The angular jaw, full lips, straight nose, and high cheekbones were all striking features; none were as striking as his eyes, one a vibrant blue and the other the color of amber. Henry sucks in a breath of air as he realizes he's been caught staring.

"N-n-no worries." Henry clears his throat and plasters on his usual chipper, bright smile. "I'm Henry DuBois. The fourth." The stranger's full, pink lips peeled back to show a dazzling white smile. Henry felt his stomach flip.

"Nice to meet you, Sir Henry," he let out a small chuckle, "I'm Eli. Eli Moses. And I do believe I owe you another glass of hooch." Eli made eye contact with one of the servers and put two fingers up. The server nodded and disappeared behind the kitchen doors. Eli turned his attention back to Henry and put on another alluring smile, which Henry returned with a blush.

"You really didn't have to do that, Eli." Henry tested the name on his tongue, feeling it roll effortlessly from his mouth. He could feel the blush on his cheeks but couldn't banish it.

"I absolutely did. An attractive fella like you? Well, I'd get ya as many drinks as you wanted." Eli winked. Henry's smile grew ever wider, threatening to completely stretch off the edges of his face. The soft drawl of Eli's voice was sleek and sultry, almost more polished than the young man's suit. Henry gave him a quick glance up and down; Eli was easily five feet ten with a slim but toned body—definitely an attractive build. Unlike Henry, Eli openly appraised Henry's body. Henry gulped and blushed again—he wasn't a schoolboy anymore, why couldn't he stop blushing? —the subtle heat and approval in Eli's eyes clear as day. The passion was palpable, and Henry's mind wandered down the daydream of possibilities.

"Cash or check?" Eli whispered in Henry's ear, sending electric tingles down his spine. He handed Henry the new cup of hooch and thanked the waiter. Henry shivered from the sultriness of Eli's voice and took a gulp of gin to clear his thoughts. He stared at Eli through long lashes and smirked. Hadn't he wanted to feel less lonely? Hadn't he come out to Greenwich for this very reason?

"Cash," Henry whispered back, and he felt electricity shoot through him as Eli's lips met his. They were soft and supple and tasted of gin, but they were warm and inviting. Henry knew he could spend all night kissing those lips. He pulled away swiftly and looked around.

"What are you looking for, _beau gar_ _çon_?" Henry's heart fluttered at the pretty French escaping Eli's lips. His green eyes squinted and searched the walls further, looking for—ah, there it is!

"Just follow me," Henry said, his hand intertwining with Eli's as he crossed the throng of dancing couples to a small alcove, hidden expertly in shadow, and accessorized with a fashionable settee. Henry smiled and guided Eli to the settee, where Henry found himself straddling his lap and kissing his neck. _Man, Hen, you're a drink away from blotto._ Even with that thought, he couldn't stop kissing Eli—the smooth curve of his neck, the sharp jawline, the dimples at the corner of his lips—everything was so beautifully soft and warm.

"H-Henry," Eli managed between kisses, a hand on Henry's hip and another one in his hair, "we should slow down." Henry gave a small 'mm-hmm', but he didn't stop. His hands were in Eli's well-defined curls, the softness of the thick curls somewhat surprising. He nibbled on Eli's neck and was satisfied at the low growl it made Eli produce. Henry could feel himself getting more turned on by the second.

And then Henry was off Eli's lap in a split second, the wind as Eli stood a sharp contrast to the warmth Henry was feeling all over. What was happening? "A warning woulda been nice," Henry mumbled, standing next to Eli. The lines of stress in his forehead softened his features, making him look much younger, and Henry recognized the body language—so similar to Theta's when she had nightmares about Roy. Henry sighed and reached his hand forward, but he stopped just shy of Eli's hand. "Everything jake?" Henry asked, knowing it wasn't.

"Y-yes. Er, no." Eli mumbled, still angled away from Henry. "It's just that… See, I'm not…" Eli turned to Henry, his eyes glistening with the threat of tears. "I'm not a man," Eli whispers. "Well, I am sometimes. Like tonight. But I ain't got the parts, if you know what I mean?" The softness of Eli's voice echoed in Henry's ears and, through the haze of the gin, his eyes took in the details he hadn't seen before: the slight curve of hips, the small bit of chest, the thick lashes… even the once-angular jawline gave way to a softer, more feminine jaw. Eli looked down at the floor, an air of innocence raining over him. Henry tilted Eli's chin up and gave a small, sweet kiss on his lips.

"You're still a mighty fine kisser. And you don't need any sorts of parts to kiss." Henry kissed Eli's lips again, less fervently than before. The electricity still bubbled through their bodies, but it wasn't the raw passion that fueled them earlier. It was the feeling of belonging, of understanding, of having a place in the world, even if only for a second. They kissed and explored each other's mouths, jawlines, and neck until their lips were swollen and chapped.

"I should really get going," Eli whispered, pulling away from Henry and smoothing his suit down. Henry looked at him, really appreciating the beauty there. Eli really was handsome. Henry's body ached with longing to be connected to Eli again. There was just something about him. As Eli turned to leave, Henry grabbed his hand.

"How will I find you?" His question came out more desperate than he meant it. Eli smirked, pulling a newsboy hat on over his now very fluffy curls. He gave Henry one last kiss on the cheek.

"Guess you'll just have to keep looking for me, huh?" Eli wiggled his eyebrows and walked out on the streets of Greenwich Village. He wished he could turn, run back and tell Henry the truth. _I'll find you. Like I found you this time. Like I'll find the others. Because I'm a diviner, and I can sense you; I can sense you as if you're an extension of me. We'll meet again._


End file.
